I was watching the classic movie All About Eve the other night when one of the characters, Karen Richards, told her husband, "The cynicism you refer to I acquired the day I discovered I was different from little boys." Her comment struck me, subtly slid in as it was in a 1950s movie that was structured around typical feminine roles of the period.
This week I’ve had a lot of quality girl time between talking with friends from Oxford and Georgetown, meeting up with my friends from high school, and spending time with my sister and other female relatives. I thought about the impact the important women in my life have had on me: I know I could go to at least ten different women in my life for support and advice, that I can count on them, that they would provide me with their unique kinds of strength.
I have struggled with what is probably a unique problem for the past few years. Labeling myself a “woman” does not come naturally (and watch it—I am not suggesting I suffer from any gender confusion). I feel stuck in this weird time warp where I feel simultaneously ageless, ancient, and younger than my age suggests. I suppose this could stem from several things: time feels like it is going so fast that I could not possibly already be out of my teens; I have always felt way older than my age; and at times I look around and see high schoolers that seem like kids, as well as more and more peers getting married and having children. So while calling myself a “woman” seems a bit odd, so too does calling myself a “girl”; I feel like neither and both.
It does feel strange to be a woman in today’s world. Have we actually triumphed over sexism as a society? Not really. But we have made enough progress that when I experience any sexism it riles me up. I feel as though even women being able to feel indignant at sexism is in itself a strong sign of the progress we have made. I’ve discussed in a previous post the trouble facing female sexuality today. I would add to that in saying that our hyper-sexual culture seems to have a correlation with the increasing number of eating disorders and self-esteem problems females face today. Women feeling worthwhile based on their physical attractiveness seems as rampant as ever: our culture nurtures that trend.
Have you heard those common ideas that women oftentimes look for men that are less attractive than themselves and men look for women that are more attractive than themselves? Isn’t the statistic concerning female and male happiness in relationships also interesting? Married men, followed by single women, single men, and finally married women are supposed to be the happiest. It’s weird to be growing older and feeling increasingly disillusioned concerning love relationships between men and women. I feel equal parts romantic and cynic. I love romantic comedies but I am hesitant to believe in the idea of a soul mate. I want to meet a man someday that loves me for all the right reasons but I’m tired (already at such a young age) of creeps and superficial guys.
I’ve always believed that a good relationship needs two healthy halves to be functional and healthy. It breaks my heart to see women with insecurities that need a man to feel worthy, men that are insecure and prey on women they can order around so that they may feel like a man, couples that are together because it is easier to stay together than split up, and couples that split up because they are not committed to one another.
I suppose I could go on and on. Relationships between men and women fascinate me. At the heart of this all, I’ve been thinking about what it means to be a woman. I can look at the women in my life and find many role-models, many characteristics to emulate. I also see weaknesses in them that exist in me. It strikes me that one of the strongest resources a woman has are other women. If we all had successful women in our lives, how much easier would it be to realize our own worth and work through common female problems?
God has profoundly blessed me with a secure network of women to teach me lessons about myself and about understanding women in general. I love the kindness, perseverance, responsibility, integrity, intelligence, sense of humor, confidence, generosity, faith, and ambition I see in the different women in my life. May God grant me the strength to be a support to those who have supported me, to be a role model for what a good woman should be, and to live my life now in such a way that I can raise good daughters one day down the road.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Home Sweet Home Again
I’ve been hungering to write a blog entry for a few days now; about what, I do not know. Hopefully by the end of this entry I will have figured it out.
I had this hope that arriving back in the US would help me to finally realize that I had been in Europe for the past few months—it did not. Landing in O’Hare and waiting for my connecting flight, however, was delightfully warming with the American newspapers being sold, American weather forecasts being played on TVs around the airport, prices being displayed in dollars, and the sweet sound of American accents surrounding me.
Arriving home at last, the only emotion I felt was sheer exhaustion. Jet lag hit me hard this time around. I figured that I had traveled around 18 hours altogether (between the 2 hour bus to the airport, 2 hours before my flight, 8 hour flight, 3 hour layover, 2 hour flight, and half an hour trip home—whew) and experienced a 6 hour time change.
Now that I’ve been home for a week, I feel as though I am beginning to understand what it means to be a grown-up. I seem to be spending longer and longer away from home and on returning, feeling more and more nostalgic with the realization that I won’t be returning as often for very much longer. In just a few years I’ll be making a home of my own in some undetermined location—presumably permanent rather than for school, which has a clear end date.
I have been enjoying family time immensely already this break. I feel as though I have taken having my immediate and a good deal of extended family within 15 minutes to an hour of my home for granted. The way that I have been raised has emphasized the importance of spending time with family, and it has been wonderful to have huge holidays and a number of people to count on. What can be more comforting in this world than slipping back into one’s familiar place in a family, with all the trappings of compatible humor, mannerisms, and personalities accompanied by a thorough understanding of one another?
It’s funny too that I arrived home with no laptop, a phone that doesn’t work in this country, and uninsured to drive to since I have been abroad. I feel as though God has been prodding me to understand what it means to feel utterly disconnected and alone from the greater world, to appreciate the people immediately around me and my one unwavering support—Him. Now I’m using my brother’s old phone, can drive while home, and just purchased my brand new laptop. Hopefully I can hold onto the lessons He has patiently tried to teach me from the lack of computer.
Perhaps this blog entry can convey the hodge-podge of emotions that I have been experiencing since I’ve been home. This has been one of the best breaks I can remember, especially in terms of the quality of family time I have shared. At the same time, it feels more surreal than ever. And also, while I was really beginning to feel a few pangs of homesickness right before coming home, now my other two “home”sicknesses are kicking in—for Georgetown and for Oxford.
I don’t like that I feel so distant from my home university; in many ways, I am jealous of my friends that have experienced their semester abroad, all neatly wrapped up, and are heading back to Georgetown in a few weeks. I can so easily picture myself slipping back into my hectic routine there, with my job, friends, classes, professors, dorm, my city. At the same time, it feels a little fuzzy, a little distant, a little too far away from me now, in this moment. I can’t stop thinking about how fast my college career has flown by and how soon I’ll be heading home from Europe at the end of the year. I am so hungry for all the experiences I have ahead of me this year, for travels, time with friends, all that I will learn as an Oxford student. That first term seems to have fluttered away, like a fleeting dream, and it scares me to think of how intangible this whole year really is. I want to hold onto it and refuse to let go.
Perhaps I’m just reverting to my melodramatic tendencies. I’m trying to live in the moment this year and experience it all to the utmost. A wonderful blessing has been given to me, so I’ll just soak it up with a smile. I’ll avoid thinking about the future for awhile—I have two and a half weeks of break, six months left in Europe, and one year at Georgetown securely defined in my future to enjoy. And tomorrow is Christmas Eve. How did that happen? Thanks be to God for my innumerable blessings.
I had this hope that arriving back in the US would help me to finally realize that I had been in Europe for the past few months—it did not. Landing in O’Hare and waiting for my connecting flight, however, was delightfully warming with the American newspapers being sold, American weather forecasts being played on TVs around the airport, prices being displayed in dollars, and the sweet sound of American accents surrounding me.
Arriving home at last, the only emotion I felt was sheer exhaustion. Jet lag hit me hard this time around. I figured that I had traveled around 18 hours altogether (between the 2 hour bus to the airport, 2 hours before my flight, 8 hour flight, 3 hour layover, 2 hour flight, and half an hour trip home—whew) and experienced a 6 hour time change.
Now that I’ve been home for a week, I feel as though I am beginning to understand what it means to be a grown-up. I seem to be spending longer and longer away from home and on returning, feeling more and more nostalgic with the realization that I won’t be returning as often for very much longer. In just a few years I’ll be making a home of my own in some undetermined location—presumably permanent rather than for school, which has a clear end date.
I have been enjoying family time immensely already this break. I feel as though I have taken having my immediate and a good deal of extended family within 15 minutes to an hour of my home for granted. The way that I have been raised has emphasized the importance of spending time with family, and it has been wonderful to have huge holidays and a number of people to count on. What can be more comforting in this world than slipping back into one’s familiar place in a family, with all the trappings of compatible humor, mannerisms, and personalities accompanied by a thorough understanding of one another?
It’s funny too that I arrived home with no laptop, a phone that doesn’t work in this country, and uninsured to drive to since I have been abroad. I feel as though God has been prodding me to understand what it means to feel utterly disconnected and alone from the greater world, to appreciate the people immediately around me and my one unwavering support—Him. Now I’m using my brother’s old phone, can drive while home, and just purchased my brand new laptop. Hopefully I can hold onto the lessons He has patiently tried to teach me from the lack of computer.
Perhaps this blog entry can convey the hodge-podge of emotions that I have been experiencing since I’ve been home. This has been one of the best breaks I can remember, especially in terms of the quality of family time I have shared. At the same time, it feels more surreal than ever. And also, while I was really beginning to feel a few pangs of homesickness right before coming home, now my other two “home”sicknesses are kicking in—for Georgetown and for Oxford.
I don’t like that I feel so distant from my home university; in many ways, I am jealous of my friends that have experienced their semester abroad, all neatly wrapped up, and are heading back to Georgetown in a few weeks. I can so easily picture myself slipping back into my hectic routine there, with my job, friends, classes, professors, dorm, my city. At the same time, it feels a little fuzzy, a little distant, a little too far away from me now, in this moment. I can’t stop thinking about how fast my college career has flown by and how soon I’ll be heading home from Europe at the end of the year. I am so hungry for all the experiences I have ahead of me this year, for travels, time with friends, all that I will learn as an Oxford student. That first term seems to have fluttered away, like a fleeting dream, and it scares me to think of how intangible this whole year really is. I want to hold onto it and refuse to let go.
Perhaps I’m just reverting to my melodramatic tendencies. I’m trying to live in the moment this year and experience it all to the utmost. A wonderful blessing has been given to me, so I’ll just soak it up with a smile. I’ll avoid thinking about the future for awhile—I have two and a half weeks of break, six months left in Europe, and one year at Georgetown securely defined in my future to enjoy. And tomorrow is Christmas Eve. How did that happen? Thanks be to God for my innumerable blessings.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
A Few Stops Before Home
I watched It’s a Wonderful Life last night with one of my good friends here at Oxford. We glanced at each other knowingly when George Bailey spoke of his dream to travel the world and again and again had that dream go nobly unfulfilled—we had just returned from a ten-day trip around Europe. It doesn’t feel right somehow that I have had all these wonderful opportunities at so young an age.
At the end of my European adventure to Milan, Verona, Venice, Vienna, and Prague, I realize more than ever that travel is less glamorous and more expensive and exhausting than it is made out to be—especially for a student on a budget. Nonetheless, I had a wonderful, fabulous trip; I still can’t believe it happened.
Milan was surprisingly disappointing. I suppose it makes sense that the city is known for fashion but that main attraction is hard for visitors to experience really. Yes, I visited some designer stores but they were the same as they are in any other city. I suppose I anticipated something remarkably fashionable about the city or some way of observing the design industry. I will say that Milan had beautiful Christmas lights, especially in the center of town near the Duomo—the big, beautiful church at the heart of Milan. Overall, I ate lots of gelato, enjoyed an Italian mass at the Duomo, and experienced a few sight-seeing let-downs in Milan (the most noteworthy of which is that we were unable to see Da Vinci’s Last Supper because it was booked weeks in advance).
We headed to the train station early to travel to Verona for a day trip en route to Venice. At the information desk we were told that the next train did not leave for two hours, and then we checked the departures board to confirm. After seeing a train for Venice, stopping in Verona on the way, left in two minutes, we sprinted over to the platform and leaped aboard. Unfortunately we had to pay an 18 Euro fee for being on a EuroStar train without a reservation, as it was not completely covered by our EuroRail passes. We arrived in Verona despite the set backs and enjoyed walking around the rainy city, with quaint, multi-colored streets. Juliet’s balcony was a bit anticlimactic and after grabbing the statue of Juliet's breast for good luck, we wandered around aimlessly for a few hours before boarding a train to Venice.
Venice itself was by far my favorite city. What can be said about it? The city exudes romance and mystery and is utterly picturesque. Utterly. Every single little winding waterway beckons to be captured on film. The buildings are genuinely crumbled with age and are beautifully weather-beaten with character. Faux vintage buildings elsewhere can’t begin to compare. We took the vaporetto (water bus) to our hostel and the fog hung over the water, shrouding the city. The next morning we set out to sight-see with the foggy mist hanging over the water and kissing the gondalas. The water was a striking green color and flooded the main walkways in the mornings before receding as the day progressed.
My time in Venice will be with me forever, I think. I visited the Doge Palace (which has amazing artwork), went to the Academia Galleries, explored San Marco’s Church, followed Steve Ricks’ advice in getting lost among the maze of tiny alleys, and took the vaporetto across the lagoon to visit some of the islands. My most adventurous meal of the trip was on one of the islands, where I ate spaghetti with a squid ink sauce, which was surprisingly delicious with a mellow flavor. During our last afternoon in Venice, the sun broke through the afternoon gloom and shone on the Grand Canal; following the glorious afternoon, Venice provided us with a stunning sunset for a fitting farewell.
We then boarded a night train to Vienna, which is about nine hours from Venice I think. My two friends and I shared a little compartment with three beds, one on top of the other. Sleeping to the motion of the train was incredibly soothing: I’ve dreamt of sleeping on a night train for quite some time. It’s funny to think of how many miles I traversed across Italy, Austria, and the Czech Republic, and yet I saw so little of the countries simultaneously. I saw poor housing on the outskirts of Milan, barren fields near Verona, warehouses on my way into Venice; I spent hours and days in their bigger cities; and yet, I saw so little of the country itself. At times it feels like I have a checklist of destinations, and as soon as I enter the city and take a few pictures, I can tick it off. That’s not how I want to travel or think traveling should be—I just kept realizing on this trip that it’s difficult to tap into the rich culture of these cities and countries with such a short visit.
We were provided a small breakfast and then ventured out into the snowy streets of Vienna. Like each of the cities we visited, Vienna was garbed in Christmas décor and had at least one bustling Christmas market. After dropping our belongings off at our hostel, we took a tram around the Ringstrasse, soaking up the energy of the city. Vienna has beautiful architecture, and I loved exploring the Hofburg Palace and the Kunst Museum. We attended a ballet, Marie Antoinette, in Vienna, which was beautiful. I had never seen a ballet before, and I loved watching the music flow through the graceful, powerful dancers.
The next morning we headed to our final stop of the trip, Prague. It did feel rather counterintuitive to continually head north in the dead of winter but it was worth it. Prague was a close second to Venice, with a wonderful upbeat energy, diverse architectural styles, loads of history and sight-seeing, and affordable prices. With our two days of exploring, I feel as though I saw a good deal of the sights. We also attended an advent concert in the Old Town Square area, which was beautiful.
Overall, I would say my trip was incredibly fun and successful. I realized a few things throughout. The first is that traveling for more than two weeks would be too much; I now plan to break my final six-week break at Oxford into 2 two-week trips around Europe. The second thing I noticed surprised me a bit: I never expected that while I traveled around Europe I would hunger for home quite so fiercely. I kept wanting to return to my cozy room at Oxford and to finally return to Kansas. God blessed me twice over, then, in this trip: He gave me a trip that many people would dream of and many will never experience, and secondly, He brought home to me in a new way how wonderful it is to have a loving family.
Tomorrow I return to the States for the first and last time during my year abroad. I absolutely cannot wait.
At the end of my European adventure to Milan, Verona, Venice, Vienna, and Prague, I realize more than ever that travel is less glamorous and more expensive and exhausting than it is made out to be—especially for a student on a budget. Nonetheless, I had a wonderful, fabulous trip; I still can’t believe it happened.
Milan was surprisingly disappointing. I suppose it makes sense that the city is known for fashion but that main attraction is hard for visitors to experience really. Yes, I visited some designer stores but they were the same as they are in any other city. I suppose I anticipated something remarkably fashionable about the city or some way of observing the design industry. I will say that Milan had beautiful Christmas lights, especially in the center of town near the Duomo—the big, beautiful church at the heart of Milan. Overall, I ate lots of gelato, enjoyed an Italian mass at the Duomo, and experienced a few sight-seeing let-downs in Milan (the most noteworthy of which is that we were unable to see Da Vinci’s Last Supper because it was booked weeks in advance).
We headed to the train station early to travel to Verona for a day trip en route to Venice. At the information desk we were told that the next train did not leave for two hours, and then we checked the departures board to confirm. After seeing a train for Venice, stopping in Verona on the way, left in two minutes, we sprinted over to the platform and leaped aboard. Unfortunately we had to pay an 18 Euro fee for being on a EuroStar train without a reservation, as it was not completely covered by our EuroRail passes. We arrived in Verona despite the set backs and enjoyed walking around the rainy city, with quaint, multi-colored streets. Juliet’s balcony was a bit anticlimactic and after grabbing the statue of Juliet's breast for good luck, we wandered around aimlessly for a few hours before boarding a train to Venice.
Venice itself was by far my favorite city. What can be said about it? The city exudes romance and mystery and is utterly picturesque. Utterly. Every single little winding waterway beckons to be captured on film. The buildings are genuinely crumbled with age and are beautifully weather-beaten with character. Faux vintage buildings elsewhere can’t begin to compare. We took the vaporetto (water bus) to our hostel and the fog hung over the water, shrouding the city. The next morning we set out to sight-see with the foggy mist hanging over the water and kissing the gondalas. The water was a striking green color and flooded the main walkways in the mornings before receding as the day progressed.
My time in Venice will be with me forever, I think. I visited the Doge Palace (which has amazing artwork), went to the Academia Galleries, explored San Marco’s Church, followed Steve Ricks’ advice in getting lost among the maze of tiny alleys, and took the vaporetto across the lagoon to visit some of the islands. My most adventurous meal of the trip was on one of the islands, where I ate spaghetti with a squid ink sauce, which was surprisingly delicious with a mellow flavor. During our last afternoon in Venice, the sun broke through the afternoon gloom and shone on the Grand Canal; following the glorious afternoon, Venice provided us with a stunning sunset for a fitting farewell.
We then boarded a night train to Vienna, which is about nine hours from Venice I think. My two friends and I shared a little compartment with three beds, one on top of the other. Sleeping to the motion of the train was incredibly soothing: I’ve dreamt of sleeping on a night train for quite some time. It’s funny to think of how many miles I traversed across Italy, Austria, and the Czech Republic, and yet I saw so little of the countries simultaneously. I saw poor housing on the outskirts of Milan, barren fields near Verona, warehouses on my way into Venice; I spent hours and days in their bigger cities; and yet, I saw so little of the country itself. At times it feels like I have a checklist of destinations, and as soon as I enter the city and take a few pictures, I can tick it off. That’s not how I want to travel or think traveling should be—I just kept realizing on this trip that it’s difficult to tap into the rich culture of these cities and countries with such a short visit.
We were provided a small breakfast and then ventured out into the snowy streets of Vienna. Like each of the cities we visited, Vienna was garbed in Christmas décor and had at least one bustling Christmas market. After dropping our belongings off at our hostel, we took a tram around the Ringstrasse, soaking up the energy of the city. Vienna has beautiful architecture, and I loved exploring the Hofburg Palace and the Kunst Museum. We attended a ballet, Marie Antoinette, in Vienna, which was beautiful. I had never seen a ballet before, and I loved watching the music flow through the graceful, powerful dancers.
The next morning we headed to our final stop of the trip, Prague. It did feel rather counterintuitive to continually head north in the dead of winter but it was worth it. Prague was a close second to Venice, with a wonderful upbeat energy, diverse architectural styles, loads of history and sight-seeing, and affordable prices. With our two days of exploring, I feel as though I saw a good deal of the sights. We also attended an advent concert in the Old Town Square area, which was beautiful.
Overall, I would say my trip was incredibly fun and successful. I realized a few things throughout. The first is that traveling for more than two weeks would be too much; I now plan to break my final six-week break at Oxford into 2 two-week trips around Europe. The second thing I noticed surprised me a bit: I never expected that while I traveled around Europe I would hunger for home quite so fiercely. I kept wanting to return to my cozy room at Oxford and to finally return to Kansas. God blessed me twice over, then, in this trip: He gave me a trip that many people would dream of and many will never experience, and secondly, He brought home to me in a new way how wonderful it is to have a loving family.
Tomorrow I return to the States for the first and last time during my year abroad. I absolutely cannot wait.
Friday, December 3, 2010
One Term Down, Two to Go
Today I finished my first term at Oxford University. I never imagined I would be writing that. I feel like my blogs have these repetitive themes of time evaporating at a painfully fast rate, everything in my life being super surreal, being blessed beyond anything I could have imagined. All of those same themes will come up today too.
I feel like just yesterday I was writing about how nervous I was to be on the brink of some unknown; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to take a tutorial and live abroad; I was freaking out during Freshers’ Week that I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress; I dreamt of going to amazing, beautiful places I had only read of. And now I’m here—done with one term, only two more to go. I leave tomorrow for a ten day adventure across Europe before heading home for the last month of my break.
Have I grown, have I learnt anything huge, have I changed, have I begun to take Oxford for granted? I really don’t know the answer to any of those questions. I feel like it would be insane to put all my essays together, one after the other (all twelve of them) and have a physical representation of all the hard work I’ve done this term. When I think of that image, that pile of words, I also think of it being tripled seven months from now as I walk away from Oxford for good; it’s an hourglass of words.
I have absolutely loved my time at Oxford thus far. I enjoy the tutorial setting, with one-on-one discussion; reading and writing are what I love; the city of Oxford is beautiful; I’ve met amazing people. The list could go on and on. Hopefully you’ve picked up on that growing love throughout my posts this term. I’d always dreamt of going abroad but never of being this blessed. Sure, I have had some rough moments this term, but they were so incredibly worth it. Who gets the opportunities I’ve had? Far too few people.
I can’t fully comprehend the fact that I won’t have to write anything for the next six weeks. With the super concentrated intensity of study at Oxford, I’m definitely ready for a break. Admittedly, we have assigned readings to do over the break but still—bring on the relaxation. I feel like I’ll go home tonight and start grabbing for books that aren’t there, to read and highlight and take notes and think about an essay that I don’t have to write. Hopefully when I board a plane tomorrow it will hit me that break has officially commenced.
One thing I will miss, even though I am ridiculously excited to go home to Kansas, is celebrating Christmas in England. It’s been snowing in Oxford, upping the already dreamy atmosphere another few notches. We had a Christmas formal hall dinner last night in the chapel with: butternut squash soup, salmon, venison, potatoes, steamed vegetables, and a Christmas pudding (like a fruit cake soaked in brandy, sort of). Then we had mulled wine and mice pies in the JCR and mingled. After finishing my last two essays, it was the perfect celebration to the end of my first term.
Today I went to tea with my friends and we looked around the table with a smile: it was hard to not jump up and exclaim “we did it!” Instead we looked knowingly at one another and revelled in this heady feeling of being done. Yes, there’s a good deal of work ahead—but so much more to experience and enjoy. Now I know I can do it. I have a wonderful trip, return home, and another term to look forward to in the next two months.
I’m going to go enjoy the less glamorous parts of travel: doing laundry and packing. But I’ll be back in a week and a half to fill you in on the adventures that I anticipate having.
I feel like just yesterday I was writing about how nervous I was to be on the brink of some unknown; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to take a tutorial and live abroad; I was freaking out during Freshers’ Week that I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress; I dreamt of going to amazing, beautiful places I had only read of. And now I’m here—done with one term, only two more to go. I leave tomorrow for a ten day adventure across Europe before heading home for the last month of my break.
Have I grown, have I learnt anything huge, have I changed, have I begun to take Oxford for granted? I really don’t know the answer to any of those questions. I feel like it would be insane to put all my essays together, one after the other (all twelve of them) and have a physical representation of all the hard work I’ve done this term. When I think of that image, that pile of words, I also think of it being tripled seven months from now as I walk away from Oxford for good; it’s an hourglass of words.
I have absolutely loved my time at Oxford thus far. I enjoy the tutorial setting, with one-on-one discussion; reading and writing are what I love; the city of Oxford is beautiful; I’ve met amazing people. The list could go on and on. Hopefully you’ve picked up on that growing love throughout my posts this term. I’d always dreamt of going abroad but never of being this blessed. Sure, I have had some rough moments this term, but they were so incredibly worth it. Who gets the opportunities I’ve had? Far too few people.
I can’t fully comprehend the fact that I won’t have to write anything for the next six weeks. With the super concentrated intensity of study at Oxford, I’m definitely ready for a break. Admittedly, we have assigned readings to do over the break but still—bring on the relaxation. I feel like I’ll go home tonight and start grabbing for books that aren’t there, to read and highlight and take notes and think about an essay that I don’t have to write. Hopefully when I board a plane tomorrow it will hit me that break has officially commenced.
One thing I will miss, even though I am ridiculously excited to go home to Kansas, is celebrating Christmas in England. It’s been snowing in Oxford, upping the already dreamy atmosphere another few notches. We had a Christmas formal hall dinner last night in the chapel with: butternut squash soup, salmon, venison, potatoes, steamed vegetables, and a Christmas pudding (like a fruit cake soaked in brandy, sort of). Then we had mulled wine and mice pies in the JCR and mingled. After finishing my last two essays, it was the perfect celebration to the end of my first term.
Today I went to tea with my friends and we looked around the table with a smile: it was hard to not jump up and exclaim “we did it!” Instead we looked knowingly at one another and revelled in this heady feeling of being done. Yes, there’s a good deal of work ahead—but so much more to experience and enjoy. Now I know I can do it. I have a wonderful trip, return home, and another term to look forward to in the next two months.
I’m going to go enjoy the less glamorous parts of travel: doing laundry and packing. But I’ll be back in a week and a half to fill you in on the adventures that I anticipate having.
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